29

I don’t know who it was who asked me last year what it felt like turning 29. Neither do I remember what I said back then but I guess I would have said the same thing: it feels the same.
Only a bit different.
When I was younger I never really had dreams of what I would become when I turned 29, unlike some people I knew. It was like they were dead set on becoming this or having that by a certain age. I didn’t have any of those dreams. All I knew then was that I would be someone different from who I was then. Maybe a leader or a manager. A family man. Dead. But everything was not set on some kind of timeline. Everything would have happened eventually, I think I thought then and when you’re young, eventually couldn’t be anytime soon.
And then I actually got old.
Sometime in the future your body and time would conspire to limit that long list of wannabes into a more discernible, more specific and slightly more realistic list, given ones age and generally capability to learn more and do more as you grow old. You find out that there are some things that would be very hard to do now than when you were younger, and a longer list yet of things that you might not even get to do anymore because you neither have the same amount of strength; nor opportunities, nor time to do them.
I read somewhere that time does seem to go faster when you get older. When you actually compare the time you would have spent on something when you were younger against your total time in your life thus far, activities and periods in your life seemed longer then when compared to the same time you would spend on something today. Think about sleeping for four hours when you were just a day old. Or when you were in preschool for a year or two when you were just four years old. Those would experiences would have been half of your life already then but now you would just pass that off as a very small segment of your whole life.
Life as you get older becomes more of a challenge not just in surviving but more on filling the gaps of your days on earth. So you get a job, probably do something day in and day out for the next 10 or 20 years if your lucky and then that’s the only time you could say that you have done something for a greater part of your life, well not counting those little moments in between.
I don’t know where this leads but there. I keep asking myself, 30 years down the line, what in hell’s name did I spend half of my doing? I don’t know the answer to that yet, but I am intrigued to find out.
Day two, done and done.

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